


The Heart Asks Pleasure First

by theescapist99



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Jealous Percival Graves, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), angsty credence, but we all know he just wants to hit that, graves pov, himself, percival tries to play the role of the overprotective dad, post movies, putting this up for a prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-01 22:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10202474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theescapist99/pseuds/theescapist99
Summary: Percival had told Credence they couldn't be together. It wouldn't be healthy. It wouldn't be responsible. He tried to prioritize his role as a parental figure rather than the lover he secretly yearned to be.He told Credence that he should be with someone his own age.And then, to Percival's horror, Credence did exactly that.





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

> This is for this prompt https://allishellthatendswell.tumblr.com/post/158137793487/im-not-the-original-anon-but-if-youre-taking
> 
> It's going to be two chapters because I didn't have time to write it all in one go now, but I did say I'd post something today lol. 
> 
> There was another noncon anon who wanted me to do a rape fic, but I'm not really sure what they wanted as far as the details. If that anon sees this, please message me. I basically just want to know like...who you wanted doing the raping and all lol. 
> 
> If I don't hear from them, probably a Sound of Silence follow up next, as I have stated. :)

When Credence Barebone had initially confessed his affections to Percival Graves, it did not go well at all.

That was not long after Credence had first moved in, mere months after Grindelwald’s arrest. Credence was still very bashful then, and it absolutely killed Percival to have to stand his ground on the matter.

“For God’s sakes Credence, I could be your father.” He had to remind the boy on more than one occasion, “I’m simply too old for you. It wouldn’t be right. I know it’s hard to understand now, but you really do need to have these kinds of experiences with someone your own age.”

“I don’t want someone my own age, I want _you_.” Credence had responded once, and Percival actually flinched from the mere surprise of Credence arguing back for once.

It had been _so_ hard not to cave then. It had been so hard not to give in to his gnawing hunger for Credence Barebone, to press his lips firmly against the boy’s own.  He wanted to tell Credence that he also desired him, very much so. He wanted to give Credence at least some of the physical affection the boy more than deserved.

However, Percival knew to suppress his own wants and needs – he hadn’t become top Auror without honing that particular skill. He convinced himself that he had to sacrifice them, out of love.

What Credence needed was an adult figure in his life. And while they all knew Credence was at least in his early twenties -- legally an adult on his own -- the sad truth of the matter was that he had the mentality of a child.

He was never given any proper upbringing or good parenting thanks to his bitch of a mother. He never even had the chance.

And when Percival had agreed to take him in, he had done so with the intent of giving the poor boy some guidance where the rest of the world seemed to have failed him.

So Percival rejected Credence’s awkward and clumsy advances. He knew it just wouldn’t be the responsible thing to do.

Eventually, out of either frustration or understanding, Credence stopped asking.

He stopped sulking over the fact that Percival refused to take advantage of their relationship. And Percival was happy to watch Credence become gradually less resentful about a great many things, over time.

Under a proper environment, Credence didn’t take very long to flourish.

His godawful bowl haircut grew out into long, elegant curls.

He found he had a love for fantasy books and stories.

He discovered the pleasures of hot baths and soft blankets.

And most importantly, he smiled a lot more.

Percival had never had children of his own, and he doubted he would ever be able to relate to any parents in his lifetime. However, he could say that watching Credence thrive and progress at all was unlike any happiness he had ever felt. It was the kind of happiness that you never thought you needed, but came to find you couldn’t live without.

It was honestly sheer bliss.

Yet all the satisfaction and fulfillment came to a screeching halt, the day Credence met someone.

 “I met a friend. At the bookstore.” Credence had told him over the large tome he seemed to be reading.

“Oh?” Percival glanced over at him as he shifted through the morning’s stack of mail. It was a dismissive response. Credence had mentioned meeting people around town before, nothing too unusual.

“Yes.” Credence went on nonchalantly, his eyes not leaving the pages of his book. “He wants to have dinner tonight, at the Sherry. Sooo… I guess I won’t be home for a little while.”

Percival froze with his fingers halfway through opening an envelope.

He turned to Credence, his attention beyond caught.

“Dinner?” he repeated rather dumbly.

“Mmmhmm.” Credence turned a page.

“Credence.”

Credence looked up at him from over the pages of the book. His black eyes were gleaming with curiosity and intrigue, but Percival couldn’t say if it was the book he was reading or general excitement.

“Yes?” Credence asked after a pause, and Percival realized he had been staring.

“Who is this friend?”

Credence looked taken aback. Percival wasn’t sure why, but he was also likely ignorant of the sudden hostility in his voice as he asked the question.

“Just a guy I met at the bookstore the other day.”

“Name?”

“Arthur.”

And as he spoke the name, Credence’s face seemed to go the slightest hue of reddish pink. It was a color Percival hadn’t seen on Credence’s face since the days of frequent confessions and awkward conversations.

“You like him.”

It wasn’t a question.

Credence said nothing in response, but he hardly needed to. Percival frowned, trying to keep a steady voice as he asked, “Credence… is this a date?”

Credence stammered on his words for the first time in maybe an entire month.

“N- no. Well, I guess – I mean – I don’t know?”

He still held his book in his hands, but Percival could see his knuckles had gone white from his grip. Credence’s nervous body language told him everything he needed to know, and Percival didn’t know what to make of how quickly he seemed to unravel.

He just knew he didn’t like it.

Percival huffed before stating, “Well…you do realize I can’t let you go.”

Credence gawked.

Whatever he had been so wound up about, he seemed genuinely surprised by this turn of events. His eyes wide, and expression slightly aghast, he asked “Wh-what? Why not?”

Percival looked at him incredulously, like it was the silliest question in the world.

“I have no idea who this Arthur even is!”

“I just met him!” Credence responded, beginning to sound irate.

“That’s exactly my point!” Percival snapped back, but then felt a pang of guilt when Credence suddenly looked away at his words. He had always tried to control his anger around Credence – which had always been more difficult that he would ever admit, as Percival Graves was a rather temperamental man.

It was a necessity back when Credence first moved in, as it took not much more than a sudden noise to set Credence off. Setting Credence off always ran the risk of setting off the obscurus simultaneously. In recent days, however, the soft tone was less of a safety precaution and more of a habit.

Percival had found that he had somewhat come to enjoy having someone around who actually kept him grounded.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.

“Credence, I am glad you’re making friends.” Percival explained with all the gentleness and compassion he could muster, “But you don’t know how people are. It’s dangerous, especially for inverts. I can’t very well just let you go off with strange men when –“

“Mr. Graves.” Credence interrupted him, and the unusually formal address shut Percival right up. “With all due respect…I don’t think that’s _your_ call to make.”

Before Percival could retort, Credence put his book down on the coffee table and got up to excuse himself. Percival was about to stop him, to call him back, when Credence turned suddenly and said, “Weren’t you the one who kept telling me to find someone my own age? Well, I found him, I guess.”

He left, and Percival was left alone with his shock at Credence’s newfound audacity.

 _But he wasn’t wrong,_ a nagging voice in his head reminded him. _You did say those words, and now he’s only doing what you told him to do._

Percival cursed.

* * *

 

He tried to go about the rest of his day as though nothing had happened. Unfortunately, he had the day off. So there was no work to distract like there normally was.

Credence had walled himself up in the guest room that he had turned into his own room, and Percival had really nothing to do but pass his time brooding to himself.

He tried to remind himself that it honestly _was_ healthy for Credence to start finally dating. The boy was already well past the age in which Percival had started dating around. Credence likely hasn’t even experienced a first kiss or a proper cuddle.

And then, as he was obsessively organizing the items in his home office, Percival tried to tell himself that it was perfectly normal to feel this way. After all, he _had_ assumed the role of Credence’s guardian.

It was natural to feel uneasy about your child potentially dating for the first time -- especially someone as fragile as Credence.

And as Percival knocked back a large glass of scotch, Percival insisted to himself that this certainly, _absolutely_ had _nothing_ to do with jealousy.

_Nope._

Percival was not, in _any_ way, sulking at the idea of not being the one to give Credence that first kiss or cuddle.

Percival was not, in _any_ way, fuming at the notion of trusting Credence’s innocent and naïve heart to someone stranger.

And in _no_ way was Percival downright sick to his stomach at the idea of some shady man, undressing _his_ Credence in some greasy motel.

Yet by the time Percival had run out of rooms to clean and Scotch to drink, he finally had to admit to himself that yes – yes he was _all_ of those things.

He grimaced, cradling his head in his hands.

He supposed, at least, he ought to have a talk with Credence.

But when Percival finally managed to drag himself to Credence’s bedroom, after mentally rehearsing _several_ things to say, he was quite dismayed to find that it was unoccupied –with the bedroom window wide open.

 


	2. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival literally cannot even

Credence didn’t return for several hours.

So as you might imagine, by the time Credence finally did, Percival was not in the greatest mood. The only thing that had seemed to sate him was his stash of scotch, but even that ran out by the time Credence came back; much like Percival’s patience.

Credence himself seemed surprisingly unmoved by Percival’s ice cold welcome.

“You could have been killed!” Percival had shouted at him, but he only earned himself a scoff in response.

“And I suppose you think Arthur is Grindelwald in disguise too?” Credence snapped back, already trying to walk past Percival to his own room.

He seemed in quite the rush, and it set off alarm bells in Percival’s instincts. He grabbed Credence by one of his shoulders, and perhaps not too gently pulled him back so that Credence was standing directly in front of him.

Underneath a thin layer of glistening sweat, Percival saw a blotch of darkened skin peering out from the back of Credence’s otherwise pale neck. He gawked, and Credence became visibly more uncomfortable.

“Is that a hickey?!?” Percival gasped.

It was a rhetorical question. Percival, of all people, knew full well what a hickey looked like.

…He just never thought he’d see one on Credence.

 _Or, more like, one you didn’t give him_ ; the nagging voice in his head snickered.

Percival only then seemed to notice just how sweaty Credence seemed to be, and an ominous feeling crept through him.

He glared, “Credence, did you do something _other_ than dinner tonight?”

Credence flushed again, but the question seemed to irk him more than anything else. He restored eye contact before muttering, “It’s not really your business.”

“It is entirely my business!” Percival retorted, without really thinking about what he was saying. The words spilled out in the heat of the moment and in the lack of sobriety.

“ _Why_?”

And there was the obvious question that Percival didn’t really have an answer to.

Well, he _did_ have an answer – but it wasn’t one he had imagined they would be discussing right now.

He wouldn’t want to talk about this with himself so angry, with alcohol in his breath, and with Credence having just done god knows what.

Percival shook his head, trying to cleanse himself of the visions his imagination seemed to be taunting him with. When it was clear he wasn’t about to provide an answer to his question, Credence continued on.

“It might have been your business once,” Credence growled, a voice dripping with bitterness and resentment, “But you made it perfectly clear that you didn’t want it that way. I left you alone. I don’t know what more you want…”

Percival frowned.

Again, the boy was right.

Some part of him -- the part that liked to think of himself as some kind of makeshift father figure -- was actually proud of Credence.

Percival couldn’t help but be happy that the boy was standing up for what he wanted, maybe getting a little bit more attitude, as was normal for _any_ adolescent. And that same guardian persona was pleased that Credence was willing to call out someone when they were wrong, even if they were an adult.

And then there was the part of Percival Graves that was – well -- _Percival Graves_.

There was the part that wanted to slap Credence (not too hard) for talking back to him, but kiss him hard straight after. There was this compulsion that willed him to be the selfish bastard everyone thought of him as. There was the Percival Graves that wanted to drag him off to his bed right now and have some passionate, angry sex. There was the urge to hold Credence as he penetrated him, moaning in his ear, “You. What I want is _you_ , dammit.”

He swallowed hard.

Words wrought with defeat and fatigue, Percival finally admitted “Honestly Credence…I’m not sure I know either.”

Credence seemed caught off guard by the answer. He raised an eyebrow at Percival, and both stood there in a pause of very awkward silence.

“Well, make up your mind.” Credence mumbled before he walked off again.

This time, Percival didn’t stop him.

 

* * *

 

About a week passed. Credence spent a bit more time out of the house, and Percival spent a lot more time seething.

By Friday, there was no employee in MACUSA who hadn’t wondered why Percival Graves seemed to have a stick up his ass. He was snapping at employees left and right, barking orders, and denying requests for time off.

They all looked to Tina for answers, her being one of Percival’s few personal cohorts, but Tina could only shrug. She had no idea what could have gotten into him.

Of course, Percival would never admit to even her that Credence and his little excursions seemed to be getting under his skin 24/7. His relationship with the boy (or lack thereof) haunted him, even when Credence wasn’t there.

_Especially when he wasn’t there._

And when he _was_ there, it was mostly tense silence. Granted, neither of them had ever been chatter boxes. To the outside observer, the silence was nothing unusual or nothing new. Privately, to both Percival and Credence, it was as noticeable as the sound of nails running down a chalkboard.

Still, Percival would dare not hand out anymore commands unless he had a good reason or explanation to justify it. He knew it wasn’t his place, dictating what the boy did with his free time. When Credence first moved in, Credence had been leery about staying with him without working, and Percival had made it a point to tell him that he was free to do whatever his heart desired. He wasn’t about to go back on that now. At the very least, he found he had that much self-control.

And as more time went on, Percival even tried to force himself to be happy for Credence. He began asking more questions in a conversational manner, mostly to do something about that the glaring elephant in the room. When Credence did finally seem to relax and open up about, Percival found that his little fling seemed to be going wonderfully.

“He’s very handsome.” Credence had beamed at one point, as he helped in the kitchen.

“Hmmm.” Percival acknowledged the comment casually.

His eyes didn’t leave the letter he was writing, but the hand that gripped that quill nearly clenched it to the point of breakage.

Then, an idea.

“Why uh… why don’t you ask him over for dinner?” Percival proposed with hesitation, and when he looked over at Credence, he took note of his mortified expression at the suggestion.

“Dinner? _Here_?” Credence asked as he resumed chopping up green beans.

“Of course.” Percival forced a smile, “I’d love to meet this person you’re so… taken with.”

“Um…” Credence chewed on his bottom lip, considering the idea. He seemed conflicted.

“I won’t embarrass you.” Percival rolled his eyes, pretending to be insulted. “I’ll be nice. I promise.”

Whatever reservations the boy may have had, he seemed to put them aside after a moment. Credence nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll ask him tonight.”

“Tonight?”

Percival tried to sound nonchalant, asking merely out of curiosity.

“Yeah, we’re umm…. we’re going to the library.” Credence explained hurriedly, but Percival didn’t miss the way his pitch rose past the word ‘going’.

_He’s lying._

_Why was he lying?_

He pretended not to notice.

“The library, huh?”

“Yep.”

“But Credence…” Percival willed a puzzled expression onto his face “Doesn’t the library close at 6?”

Credence flinched, and immediately tried to suppress it. Of course, he didn’t succeed.

“Oh, maybe he meant the bookstore again.”

“Ah.” Percival nodded. “Of course.”

He got up from the chair on which he had been seated, and Percival sauntered over to where Credence was working on the kitchen counter. Credence promptly froze and spun around, eyes growing wider as Percival continued to close the distance between them.

And suddenly, Percival was damn near on top of him -- just the right distance to seal a kiss. Credence seemed to tremble against him, a faint imprint of the frightened child Percival knew just months ago. But unlike that child, Credence’s gaze did not wander or shy away. Instead, it looked into Percival’s own questioningly. Perhaps – even -- lustfully.

 _Do it_ , the voice in Percival’s head begged him.

Percival inched closer, but stopped short of full on contact. His lips grazed Credence’s just barely, and he could feel Credence’s warm breath on his face. His pulse fluttered with anticipation.

Credence wasn’t backing away.

_He wanted this._

Percival _knew_ he wanted this.

Unthinkingly, he ran a hand up one of Credence’s thighs. When he got higher, around the beltline, he could feel Credence’s hardness through his pants.

Credence’s breath hitched as Percival’s fingers tickled the outline of the bulge teasingly.

“Percival...” he whimpered.

It was just one word, one short utterance of his name – yet the small sound seemed to vocalize so much. In the slight quiver of his pitch, Percival could hear fear, vulnerability, trust, and yearning all at once.

Percival suddenly stepped back.

He just couldn’t bring himself to go any further.

He just couldn’t convince himself that he wasn’t somehow taking advantage of their relationship -- of Grindelwald’s abuse even.

 In the early days, back when Credence was the one trying to convince Percival to become intimate with him, Percival could never shake the thought that whatever moments he had shared with Grindelwald contributed to his feelings.

Percival reminded himself that what Credence needed was a healthy relationship.

 And he realized with painstaking sadness, that a healthy relationship was just about the one thing he and Credence could _never_ share.

His own erection throbbing, Percival turned around and walked off without another word. Credence called after him, but he didn’t look back. He stalked back into his own bedroom and collapsed into his mattress.

Percival couldn’t remember the last time he cried, and the fact that he was crying now didn’t register with him right away.

He wondered why his pillow was damp as he buried his face in it, muffling a scream of frustration.

Not long after, he heard the sound of the front door closing.

The boy had left.

For the “library”.

That same ominous feeling seemed to sink into his skin and ripple out through his very soul.

Percival forced himself up and over to the second floor lounge, where a bird cage was stationed in the right most corner. The tawny owl inside it, Avery, shot him a condescending glance.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Percival snapped at him, and the owl ruffled his feathers in response.

Percival unlatched the door on the bird cage and opened it, waiting for Avery to clamber over to the opening.

“Follow him.”

Avery hooted back, needing no further elaborating on who “him” even was.

The bird sprung from the cage door over to the window -- and finally, he spread his wings and glided off into the chilly evening sky.

Percival watched him go, unable to shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like this got extended another chapter. Oh well.


	3. Percival Graves Doesn't Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's in trouble.

It didn’t take long for Avery to return, much to Percival’s horror.

Still, he was not surprised to see the owl frantically pecking at his bedroom window looking as aghast as an owl possibly could look. He had always had good intuition about this kind of thing -- although he never enjoyed when his fears were realized.

So when Avery showed up with a leaflet that advertised a new hotel In Times Square, Percival only took a moment to down some scotch before he was on his way. The minute he had confirmed his hunch, any conflicts he had about respecting Credence’s space and privacy were gone and buried.

There was no way in hell he was going to let _this_ happen.

* * *

 

The Hotel Pierre was a grandiose thing that had held it’s grand opening less than a month prior.

The elite of New York crowded around it like a beehive, with their dapper dress and pompous attires. It was the type of place you didn’t walk into without some meticulously planned outfit, so it was no real wonder that everyone Percival passed seemed to be giving him the stink eye. Of course, Percival Graves owned many nice outfits, but he had arrived in somewhat of a rush. He zigzagged through the crowd in great strides, ignoring the dirty looks from the people he unintentionally bumped into on the way.

Obviously, Avery was unable to join him inside the meticulous lobby. Thankfully, the bird had been able to direct him to the appropriate room before departing, making use of a street sign that had the numbers 3, 0, and 4 on them. Percival had always felt Avery was a good reflection of his owner -- resourceful and smart.

He was able to find the room in good time, with maybe only 1 hour between then and when Avery had beckoned him to the window.

Looking around to make sure the rest of the hall was empty on both ends, Percival discreetly whipped out the tip of his wand and pointed at the hotel door.

“ _Alohomora_ ,” he muttered under his breath. And slowly, the silver knob turned on its own.

Percival seized it and barged through the door, uninterested in the notion of making any pleasantries. Credence could lambaste him as much as he wanted to for it later, he figured.

And yet, Percival walked in to find his work more than cut out for him.

Pale, naked bodies were entwined on the one queen sized bed; the bed had sheets speckled with blood.

The other man, Percival realized, was not that young at all. Sure, he was younger than Percival -- but it couldn’t have been by much. Late thirties, perhaps.

He had dark hair that was slicked back into a comb-over, waxed eyebrows, and a maniacal twinkle in dark eyes. Percival realized with revulsion that the man looked like a younger version of himself, and Percival had to will himself to stay focused as a sense of deja vu tickled at his memories.

Below him, Credence sobbed, clearly in pain. It sounded like he might have been saying something, but it was honestly hard to tell. The man held his head down into the mattress with visible force, muffling meager pleas. It almost looked like was trying to break Credence’s neck into it, or trying to suffocate him as he pounded into him.

The sickening sound of flesh slapping hard against flesh rang throughout the room like the tolling of bells.

Something in Percival snapped.

Or -- perhaps -- more like shattered.

He walked over to them, and the other man seemed to barely notice his presence. Percival did not give him much time to react either which way. Before the man could even begin to ask what was likely going to be “who the fuck are you?”, Percival grabbed a fistful of greasy hair and pulled him off the bed.

The man let out an uncouth shriek as he fell to the ground, landing on Percival’s feet.

Credence immediately scrambled up, curling into himself like a reflex. Then, his entire body shaking, he looked up at Percival with red-rimmed eyes. He appeared either speechless or afraid, or a combination of both.

Percival merely glanced at him. In a hoarse voice, he asked, “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

After a hesitant pause, Credence shook his head.

“Good.” was all Percival said before he grabbed the likely very confused man who was already trying to flee.

He couldn’t use an unforgivable curse without instantly alerting MACUSA, he knew that. Thankfully, Percival had no qualms doing things the old fashioned way. He tossed the man roughly into a small table at the center of the hotel suite.

The man yelped out in pain before he screamed shrilly at Percival, “Who are you? What do you want?!?”

And Percival advanced towards him slowly, enjoying the way the bastard was now trembling in the same way Credence was just a moment before.

Faintly, he could smell a whiff of the piss that started leaking down his leg.

Percival could not see himself then. However, he had been told repeatedly throughout his career that he had a rather intimidating aura about him on a daily basis. And that same aura could be downright _frightening_ if Percival was angry enough.

…To say Percival was angry enough right now would have been a gross understatement.

Percival used a hand to seize the man’s skinny neck, savoring the gasp that he squeezed out as he pressed his thumb hard into the Adam’s apple. With his other hand, he actually caressed the side of the bastard’s face, almost lovingly.

In a low but dangerous hiss, Percival whispered, “I want you to never touch my boy again -- _you sick fucking monster.._.”

And with his free hand, he made a fist and crashed down it into the man’s face.

As he remembered the slight resemblance between them, he repeated the action. The man screamed out, a shrill cry that was gurgled with his own blood, and Percival punched him a third time.

Percival landed repeated blows, none of them softer than the last.

He heard Credence whimper in the background and that only made Percival want to hit the man more.

He continued to bash the man’s face in -- until his likeness resembled no one except perhaps a stepped on tomato.

When the bastard was obviously dead, Percival let go of his throat, the body crashing down limply onto the overturned table.

He straightened himself up, panting and drenched in his own sweat. His own clothes were now splattered in crimson and pulp His entire right hand looked like he had stuck it up a woman’s cunt during her monthly.

When he could feel himself calm, Percival spun around to see a very shaken Credence gawking at him from the mattress.

Percival tried to smile and softly crooned, “Let’s go home, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed my tumblr url. And picture. and layout. Just in case anyone was wondering haha.
> 
> Ok so I lied though -- we still have one more chapter for closure's sake.


	4. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Priorities

Percival Graves was a smug man.

He never passed up the opportunity to gloat or say “I told you so”, when given the chance. Depending on just how bad circumstances were, he might say it with a bit less humor – but he would still say it.

That was, at least, until Credence’s rape.

Credence was broken all over again.

The slow baby steps they had made in growing some sense of normalcy in Credence not only came to a sudden halt, but regressed about thirty feet backwards. They weren’t back at square one -- they somehow found themselves at square negative five.

And Percival, for once in his life, simply did not have the heart to gloat.

He wanted to kill the bastard that did this to him, but he had already done so.

So, all there was left to do in the aftermath was to pick up the pieces. The next few days were spent trying to glue their relationship back together.

Although, to be fair, one could argue that it hardly had the sturdiest foundation to begin with.

It had raised alarm bells between Newt, Tina, and Queenie when Percival suddenly forbade them to visit Credence.

He insisted Credence was feeling ill, but he knew the excuse wouldn’t hold for long -- they were becoming suspicious. They persisted with their questions, but the second Queenie tried to infiltrate his thoughts, Percival blocked her magic so quickly that she blinked out of whiplash.

And then one day, Tina stationed herself on his doorstep and refused to leave until Percival let her inside. Of course, Percival did his best to wait her out, as she probably expected -- but alas, the woman had evidently cleared her entire schedule in her determination.

Exasperated, Percival let her inside once the hour was half past 10 PM and he knew it had to be chilly out.

“I want to see him.” Tina said, just seconds after she stepped over the threshold.

“He isn’t feeling well.” Percival repeated the same excuse he had been saying for several days.

Turning to the hallway that led to the guestroom, she called out loudly, “Credence!”

And Percival grabbed her by a forearm and pulled her away quickly, dragging her off to a sitting room on the opposite end. “Hey!” Tina snapped at him in annoyance, “ _What has gotten into you_?”

“Nothing!” Percival snapped back, “I just rather he not be disturbed.”

“ _Why_?” “Because I care about the boy, is that so hard to believe?!?” Percival half shouted, but Tina didn’t flinch -- she squinted, seemingly trying to scrutinize.

“And in what context, _exactly_ , are you using the word ‘care’?”

Percival broke their eye contact abruptly, but he knew someone could read him as well as Tina would need no further elaboration than that. Her expression morphed from annoyed to surprised, but then seemed to settle on concerned.

While Percival knew he was likely misreading it, he could not help but feel a pinch judgement under her gaze.

The accusation: _dirty old man_ \-- it rang like an echo through the air.

Not wanting to let it linger for much longer, Percival admitted in a croaky voice, “I do love him.”

Tina was silent for a few more moments.

Percival could actually see the cogs turning in her mind, as she likely wrestled between varying responses, none of which probably felt appropriate.

 Finally, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. When she opened them again, she simply stated “Newt and I are going to be taking a vacation soon -- to Hogsmeade, by Hogwarts. We want Credence to come with us. It’s just for a week.”

Of course, Percival’s answer was instantaneous:

“No.”

Tina looked cross, “Look _, Mr. Graves_ …to be honest, I don’t really care what you do. I’ve known you long enough to know you’re a stubborn ass, and there’s nothing I can ever do or say to stop you from whatever it is you want to do or think. But I _do_ care about Credence. I don’t know what’s going on between you two…but he _is_ still my friend too. And _as his friend_ , I want to show him more of the wizarding world that he should have been a part of from the beginning. I will respect your relationship with him, but I need you to respect mine too.”

 In the middle of her tirade, Percival heard a creak coming from the stairs. He sighed.

“I’ll think about it.”

“We’re leaving this weekend.” Tina told him, “Think about it faster.”

Trying to pick any response that would get her to leave all the sooner, Percival promised, “I’ll tell you tomorrow, then.”

Tina glared, but nodded curtly.

“Tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Graves,” she muttered as she let herself out of the front door, “And the answer better be yes.”

Softly, the door clicked shut.

Percival stared after her, watching her walk down the street through the nearest window.

He thought to himself that Tina really needed a reminder of who the boss between them was, and soon.

…But that could be dealt with later.

Percival walked over to the stairs, and he looked up at the spiral shaped structure.

At the top of them, he could see Credence peering at him from over the brass railing, as he suspected. It was like a child eavesdropping on argument between their parents, Percival thought to himself.

He wondered if Credence had heard his little love confession moments earlier, and suddenly he felt very awkward. Feeling the urge to deflect before Credence could even say anything, Percival broke the silence.

“Credence. Why aren’t you asleep? Nightmares again?”

Instead of answering where he was, Credence actually stood up and began descending the stairs.

The loose, white pajama set he wore made him look illegally young, and much too cute all at once. When he was almost to the bottom, Credence replied plainly, “I want to go. With them, I mean.”

Percival pursed his lips.

“I don’t know that you’re ready to…”

“I’m not.” Credence stated bluntly. “But I don’t know… I _do_ miss Tina, and the others. Maybe a change of scenery would be a good idea.”

Percival likely looked worried then, as Credence clarified a second later, “I don’t mean a change of scenery from you… just… New York. The city. I don’t know…”

Credence gazed at the floor as he trailed off, his tone becoming more and more sheepish with every word. Percival grabbed him gently by the shoulders and squeezed them reassuringly.

“You’re confused. I know.” Percival insisted, “But you still need more time before you’ll feel okay enough to…”

“Percival,” Credence cut him off abruptly, “I _really_ wish you’d stop assuming how I feel.”

Instantaneously, Percival fought the urge to respond defensively.

_Had he been assuming?_

Of course, it was a fair assumption that anyone would be distraught after an assault like what Credence had experienced. But for the first time since that evening -- Percival took stock in his own reaction.

He rarely _did_ ask Credence what it was that he wanted, or needed.

Instead, he had just become more overbearing and doting. He acted on his own natural reaction to horrific events: he set rules and restrictions.

 Percival had become afraid of Credence ever leaving the house again, and he had not had any qualms about hiding the fact.

He had just, so far, failed to admit it out loud.

“I… I’m sorry, Credence.” Percival apologized, a rare occurrence in the overall span of his lifetime. “I…suppose you’re right. I only ever wanted to protect you, my boy. Tell me, what is it that you want then? You want to go with them?”

In the dark, he could still see Credence smile shyly. “I want _you_. All I want is you.”

“Still?”

“ _Always_.”

Now smiling himself, Percival climbed a step upward. Credence leaned forward, and finally – they kissed.

Their lips clashed together with unbridled enthusiasm, despite the late hour and their fatigued souls.

In his surrender, Percival figured:

He _had_ taken Credence in to give him a shot at a normal life – yet what was a normal life without some degree of agency?

Going forward, Percival realized, he ought to be a little more considerate.

 

* * *

 

 

Tina was very surprised to see Percival and Credence at the doorway of her apartment so early. She had figured Percival would likely postpone giving her his answer until she cornered him next.

“Credence!” she engulfed the young man into the tightest hug she could muster, simply relieved to see him in person again. She could feel Credence smile as he hugged her back, and it was a wonderful thing.

From the other side of the apartment, Newt yelled out a greeting. Tina stepped back and her eyes went to Percival’s “You’ve decided to let Credence come with us then?”

Percival smirked, “Yes, I’ve decided a vacation would be nice for us.”

“Us?” Tina raised an eyebrow at him, her own grin falling suddenly.

“Of course,” Percival straightened, “You didn’t think I’d let my little jellybean here go alone to another continent with a magizoologist, and well, _you_ – did you?”

Tina smacked him playfully, but both she and Credence had turned bright red at the pet name. Behind her, Newt piped up.

“Well, the more the merrier, I’d say!”

Tina glared back at him, but didn’t argue as both Percival and Credence took that as their cue to let themselves inside.

Groaning, Tina shut the door behind them.

This was going to be a long vacation.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed my tumblr again!
> 
> Last time I s2g:
> 
> https://carryonmyobscurialson.tumblr.com/
> 
> And yeah, that was it. Hopefully the person who sent this prompt is satisfied with that and ummm if you see this before I respond to your message, just know I will soon because work has been cray cray today. 
> 
> Alright, well thanks for all the kudos/reviews/bookmarks and what have you. Bye!

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat https://carryonmyobscurialson.tumblr.com/


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